


All in the Family

by Dusty_Forgotten (DustyForgotten)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Andale, Cannibalism, Character Study, Gen, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 20:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyForgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: Morality is for people that survive, and Erin likes kids.





	All in the Family

“M-hm,” she says, thumbnail in mouth. In her peripherals, Sergeant RL-3 hovers in the hallway. There’s no back door here, so the only way out is through the Mister Gutsy— but then there’s the Wilsons. She lifts her head, lets her wrists rest against the dining table, elbows off. There’s nothing Dad drilled into Erin’s brain quite like manners. She wants to ask what they’re eating that keeps everyone so well-fed: but they’re in the heart of the Wastes; jack-all grows. The water’s undrinkable (that’s sort of the whole reason she’s out here, isn’t it?), they don’t have a brahmin farm out back— Junior says they work in the basement; maybe they’re builders, or traders—  _ you know what the hell they’re doing. _

Erin smiles, a sharp little slash of lips across her mouth, and says, “Well, if I’m going to stay for dinner, I need to work up an appetite. Might play ball with Junior, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, of course!” Jack replies, because he’s got no other response than that or rude. “Have him home by sunset!”

“Just in time for supper,” the Lone Wanderer agrees, rising from her seat, robot blustering out of her way and dog at her heels.

The door closes behind them, and it’s because none of them have windows, and there’s no one but the kids outside, that she takes a moment to breathe. Checks her map, and overlays the Canterbury caravan routes. That big blank spot, middle-south: that’s Andale. They’re definitely not traders, as if she needed any confirmation. Dropping her Pip-Boy, she slips the key she snagged from Jack into her pocket, such a way even the kids won’t see it— and they’re looking now. Erin grins, approaching them, and it’s genuine, if not still forced. She likes kids. She’s not that far from a kid, herself.

“Hey Jenny,” she starts, despite having the other child’s attention, “you should wash up for dinner.”

The girl frowns, hugs her friend (he stiffens, from feet to face), and skips off for home. There’s something in that kid Erin hasn’t seen in a long while. Like Betty Braun. She looks at Junior, but instructs RL-3, “Sarge, watch Harris’s house.”

“Affirmative!”

With that rush of thrusters, it’s just a girl, her dog, and a little boy, out by the garden shed. She crouches, holds out her hand, and he takes it, of his own will. “Alright Junior, listen to me. This is important. Say you don’t feel well. Ask to go to bed without supper— don’t worry, I’ll bring you something. Go up to your room, get under your bed. Cover your ears. Close your eyes. Don’t come out until I get you. Okay?”

He nods.

“You got all that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay.” She squeezes his hand, and lets him go. “Head on home, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay…” He’s still confused, but does as he’s told. Erin watches him go, and retrieves the key she snagged earlier in the day, from the Wilson’s. His fault, for leaving that on top of the damn living room radio. Jack’s obviously the brains out here: it’s a wonder any of them have any, with how fucking inbred they gotta be. If Junior’s supposed to marry his cousin, he’s definitely not the first.

Everyone’s inside. Sarge has some cover in the form of Harris’s porch, and a nice spot to flank from. She’s got Dogmeat, a half dozen guns, and a strong stomach. She’s gonna need it.

Erin opens the door; doesn’t try to be coy about it, because they’ve probably caught on by now. None of those houses have windows. Smart.

The scene is, unfortunately, unsurprising. Dead bodies and bones, ice boxes, a couple rippers out on the counter. They don’t even keep a nice work station. They’re not trying all that hard to keep it secret. She waits until the footsteps outside come close— sounds like the lot of them. They’re not hiding.

Neither is she.

Erin grabs one of the cages, drags it over to the door. Tugs a grenade off her belt, counts to three. Cracks the door, tosses it outside. Jams a bar of the cage under the door handle. Duck and cover.

Boom. RL-3 joins in, takes care of the women, it sounds like, probably not armed. Whoever’s banging on the door, when the cage quits rattling, and his weight thumps against the sheet metal. Last of them— Jack, since he’s the only one with even a sliver of sense— is blind-firing from around the side of the shed.

But it’s not just metal. The sound of those rippers carving through bone on solid sheet metal would be deafening, and the siding that fell of their nice little houses isn’t lying in the yard. Erin takes her 10mm, aims for the wooden bits with her eyes, the target with her ears. Takes four or five shots, but she’s got a full clip, and he’s too busy with the Sergeant to even try and find her.

“Another glorious day in the U.S. army!” takes her back to Anchorage; maybe that’s why she likes having him around so much. Erin works the door loose, then drags all four bodies inside, and locks it up after her. Leaves Old Man Harris with some Nuka Colas and Molerat Wonder Meat before she sends Dogmeat up to get Junior while she bags up the basement.

Maybe she’s a hypocrite. Maybe grilling up some raider is the same as preying on every waster trying to make a living that rolls through your town. Maybe she’s as bad as the ex-residents of Andale. It’s possible.

Doesn’t matter, though. One way or another, they’re all just making their way in a fucked up world. Morality is for people that survive, and Erin likes kids. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson and Smith deserved to die, and that every ounce of human meat they hoarded is going to Lamplight, where they’ll feed it to the fungus, and eat that. One big fucked up circle of life.


End file.
